It was as if a subtle shadow had crept
over her, toning down every characteristic light to its own
grey monotonous tint.
Madelon had not the smallest suspicion of what was passing in
her companion's mind. During all these years, in whatever
other respects she might have altered, the attitude of her
heart towards him had never changed. What he had always been
to her, he was now; the time that had elapsed since they
parted had but intensified and deepened her old feeling
towards him--that was all. He had been in her thoughts day and
night; in a thousand ways she had worked, she had striven,
that he might find her improved when he came home, less
ignorant, less unworthy, than the little girl he had parted
with. His return had been the one point to which all her hopes
had been directed; and, poor child, with a little unconscious
egotism, she took it for granted that just then she occupied
almost as large a share in Graham's mind as he did in hers. He
had always been so good, so kind to her, he must surely be
glad to see her again, almost as glad as she was to see him.
Pages:
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507